Big Mistake
by Loup de Mer
Summary: Shepard finds out what happens when you mess with Jack's head enough. Rated M for language.


**Author's Notes:** _I started playing Mass Effect 2 with every intention of having my Shepard stay loyal to Ashley, but seriously - the allure of the dark side is just too strong. I figured even a decent guy like Shepard would be pretty bitter about being dead for two years, which would be a perfect excuse for me to abuse the renegade speech options and punch people out in the middle of sentences and all that fun stuff (you _really_ didn't want to get in the way of his revenge on the Collectors). And then Jack came along. She seemed like the perfect compliment to his wild side, and yeah, it takes a lot of paragon-ness (Paragon-ity? Paragon-icity?) to romance her, but she seems like the type of girl to go for guys who set krogan on fire and push people out windows, don't you think?_

_I'm trying to get a feel for her character for a possible storyline, so anything constructive that people can give me on that front is most welcome. A couple of in-game lines are included to establish the time period in the relationship - probably right after the encounter on Horizon crushed what was left of Shepard's heart into a pulp and right before he and Jack decide that jumping each others' bones wouldn't be the worst idea. Rated M to be safe 'cause... well, it's Jack. _

_Sadly, I do not own Mass Effect or any of its characters. Bioware beat me to it.  
_

* * *

"Wait. My turn with the questions."

Shepard stopped before he reached the stairs that would lead him up and out of the bowels of the ship, back to the upper decks where all the Cerberus cockroaches would be scurrying around with their clipboards and their shifty little eyes that always seemed to flicker in my direction when I was around. I didn't like to go up there, not when I could help it. I'd already had enough of those shitheads staring at me back on Pragia to last me a few lifetimes. And besides, I wasn't a huge fan of cockroaches - even though I did get a kick out of seeing them looking like they wanted to piss their pants the first time I set foot on the Normandy.

But Shepard… he was something else entirely. From the start, he was the only one who wasn't afraid to come down to where I had taken up residence in the dark engineering level of the ship. It was starting to weird me out, how often during the past few weeks he would visit me just to talk, to ask me questions about my past like we were supposed to be friends or some bullshit like that. Yeah, so I appreciated what he had done for me, taking the time to let me blow up my childhood and all, but that didn't mean I was gonna just fall in line with the rest of his lackeys and start kissing his ass. Aside from the Cerberus infestation, Shepard was the main reason I never left the lower deck. If I started acting like a part of the crew, or at least like I wasn't still pissed off to be there, I _knew_ he would take a quick leap from being fairly irritating to un-fucking-bearable. I could already picture that shit-eating grin of his effectively cemented onto his face if I gave him any reason to believe that he was winning this little game of his. What, did he think he could tame me like some kind of wild beast he was taking under his wing? That he could mold me into something presentable to polite society? The condescending asshole.

My thoughts of him didn't change when he turned his head to look back at me over his shoulder with one eyebrow raised, intrigued that I was the one trying to keep the conversation going this time. Usually, I just clammed up when I got sick of him trying to coax out anything but one-word answers and tales of destruction, but this time _I_ wanted some things answered. I wanted to know what the hell he was getting out of this, or what he was _trying _to get out of me. Everybody wants something, and Shepard was no different. Military legend or not, he was still just a man underneath. A really goddamn persistent one. I grit my teeth together in annoyance at his smug smile and tried my very best to resist the urge to wipe it off his face.

"People usually walk by now. Why are you really asking all these things? Are you eyeing me up? Because if this is just about sex, maybe you should just fucking say so."

I would have fucked him right then, too, if that was what all this was about. Then he could have finally left me to the peace and quiet and I could have at least been satisfied knowing that everyone was the same in this big fucked-up universe. But the big jerk just shook his head. "That's not what I'm after."

That threw me off a little, and for a minute I didn't know how to respond. I'm not gonna say it wasn't the answer I was looking for, but it still didn't clear anything up. I still wasn't buying this whole Selfless Guy act. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion and crossed my arms over my chest. "Why the hell not?"

I think he misunderstood the question, thought I was just insulted that he wasn't trying to charm his way into my pants, because his only response was a bigger smirk. Really I was just tired of trying to figure him out. All the shit he had on me, and what did I know about him that half the galaxy didn't know too? Eventually he was gonna have to finally let something slip. No one was this good.

It didn't help my frustration any when he started to walk away again without another word. I wasn't _finished_ with him yet. "You didn't answer my question, fucker!" But he didn't stop, didn't look back, straight up _ignored_ me. Now, I tolerated a lot of shit from this guy – I owed him big – but _no one_ fucking ignores me. In the time it took him to jog up three steps, I was already across the room. The leap from the bottom step to the hand railing wasn't really a big deal for me, and I sprang from one to the other then hopped square onto Shepard's back before he had time to turn around at the sound of my footsteps. Now _that_ got his attention. The unexpected weight of me on top of him threw him off balance, pitched him forward so that he had just barely enough room to stop himself from colliding face-first with the metal stairs. I did my best to hide my disappointment when he righted himself in time and stumbled backward onto level ground again. Shit, would that not have been _classic_? I would have given up the chance to punch Lawson in the tit just to see the "Great Commander Shepard" try to explain his broken face to the rest of his crew. I felt his chest swell with a deep, exasperated breath, then the rumble of his voice as he uttered my name, thick with unspoken threats "Jack…"

"What was that? You got something to say to me now, Shepard?" I enjoyed provoking him, hearing the annoyance bubbling up in his voice. I liked knowing it was possible to drag him down to my level.

"Grow up."

"Blow me."

Realizing that talk wasn't gonna get him anywhere, he took the next logical step. We had the whole room to tango in then, so he picked a nice, solid-looking wall, and he slammed me back against it. It hurt – I'm not gonna deny that – but I knew that he was holding back just from the fact that I still had enough breath in me to let out a bark of laughter at his sudden, but insufficient, show of violence. I mean, fuck, when the man's muscles flexed, it was like I was wrapped around a warm marble statue. If he had wanted to do damage, he could have. He was going easy on me – his first mistake.

As soon as there was any room between my back and the wall, I withdrew one of my arms from around his neck and pressed my palm flat against the metal behind me. The dark room flashed blue for a split second when the force of my biotics blasted a dent the size of a volus into the wall and sent him reeling across the room. Shepard hit the nearest table and grunted as all of the air rushed out of his lungs, the edge of it driving hard enough into his gut to make him double over. The impact caused a few pistols to clatter to the floor, and a little part of me was pissed at him for making me have to clean them all over again. But the rest of me, well… the rest of me was just enjoying watching the war hero I was riding fight to keep from blacking out. I took advantage of his bent position to shift a little higher, just enough to make it easier to gloat right into his ear. And I made damn sure he could hear the toothy grin on my face even if he couldn't see it. "I hope that ruptured your spleen."

He didn't reply. I'm not sure that he had recovered enough to talk yet, but he carefully pushed himself up and away from the table, still holding up both our weights, but doing so with legs that were less than rock steady. By the way he lurched back toward the center of the room, I still thought that I had him. He faltered and stumbled to one side, then to the other, but all the while I couldn't see his roaming eyes picking out another suitable stretch of wall. One that I hadn't made concave yet, at the very least. I knew I was in trouble the moment his swaying stopped, his feet suddenly stable as he took a deep enough breath to let me know neither of his lungs had collapsed. This time, he didn't hold back.

I had expected Shepard to impress me once he was angry enough to really let me have it, but the raw force of that blow still took me off guard. Spots swirled in my vision, pain shot all the way up my spine, and my legs finally began to lose their grip on his waist. I wheezed out a breathless "Fuck!" as I felt myself slipping from his back, but managed to keep my forearms hooked firmly around his neck. It was just a happy coincidence that my dangling weight was enough to close off his windpipe.

After regaining his breath only seconds before, it didn't take too long for lack of air to bring Shepard to his knees. But the fight still wasn't out of him, and he gave me a last "fuck you" in the form of one more collision with the wall. It didn't quite have the kick of the last one, but it was enough to jar me loose and send me to the ground.

I lay panting on my stomach on the cold floor until I came to my senses again, then turned my head to see Shepard in a similar state on his hands and knees. I made one last lunge at him while he was still blue, ignoring my aching back in the hopes of catching him before he could compose himself. But even then, as infuriating as it is to admit it, I couldn't beat his size or his strength. We rolled twice across the floor before he had me pinned. His hands were like vices pressing my wrists to the metal on either side of my head, and I couldn't position my legs right to kick him in the balls, so I just tried to thrash my way out from under him.

It wasn't doing shit. It was tiring me out more than anything, so I was just confused at first when he let go of one of my arms. I felt his hand reappear lower on my body where my hips had been bucking up against him, and he pushed me down so that I was flat on the floor with a force that didn't leave me any room to resist.

There was a lull, and both of us finally went still. A shadow fluttered past as one of the engineers navigated the crosswalk above us, but I was too busy trying to see past the glow of cybernetics in Shepard's eyes to look up. I don't even know how long we stayed like that, whether it was seconds or weeks, but when I finally realized what his problem was, I broke the silence with a snort and tipped my head back to let out a throaty laugh. I was fucking turning him on! He had gone from trying to shatter my backbone one minute to staring down at me like he wanted to burn all my clothes off with his laser eyes the next. So much for him not having sex on his mind. He was too goddamn much.

But still, I couldn't help considering it. The man had shot up an entire cell block of Blue Suns and hardened criminals just to recruit me. I had seen him bring krogan to their knees while barely breaking a sweat. Hell, _dying_ hadn't even slowed him down. It was hard not to be impressed with him. I had never really thought about it before, but it was kind of impossible not to in the compromising position we had landed ourselves in, and it was finally abundantly clear to me why half the women on the ship had a thing for him.

And besides, it didn't even seem like he was going to hold the whole attempted homicide thing against me. How does a girl resist that?

"You're a freak, Shepard." I dipped my chin to squarely meet his gaze again, a little smirk passing my lips. "I like that."

The side of his mouth curled into a grin, and he let out a quiet laugh that tickled my neck as he shook his head. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me, Jack." He didn't seem to have a problem with it either, 'cause the next moment he was kissing me so hard it almost hurt. I sure as shit didn't mind, just fought to keep up with his gusto while I lifted my free hand to the back of his neck and tried not to think about the fact that I had my lips on a guy in a Cerberus uniform. Now, I get how this sounds. I still think it's fucking ridiculous. It didn't _feel_ ridiculous at the time, though. Not to get all corny or anything, but it felt… _right_. Like it was only natural that trying to beat each other up would end with us making out on the floor of the ship. I guess we're both just the right kind of crazy for each other.

I wrapped my legs around his waist again, and this time he didn't seem to have any complaints about it. Again, I tried to wrench my still captive wrist out of his grasp, but smiled faintly into his mouth when I found his hold on me as strong as ever. Instead, I let the hand on his neck slip south. It trailed along his chest, made it almost all of the way down his stomach before he shot his own hand out to stop it from reaching its final destination. He pulled his face away from mine at the same time, watching me for a long moment with an expression that was hard to read. He flicked his tongue over his lips like he was about to say something but seemed to change his mind, wrinkling his brow instead as he untangled himself from my limbs so he could sit up. He gave me some stupid apologetic look as he stood, and I let out a sigh along with all hope I had of getting any.

I probably would have been pissed if I hadn't already guessed what was going on in his head. That irritating guilt in his face confirmed what I had been suspecting for a while. These were the facts: Lawson may be a bitch, but even I can't deny that she's bangable. I'd noticed her eyeing him up the first day I saw the two of them in the same room, but he always seemed to be totally blind to it. It was _painful _how obvious it was that his quarian friend wanted him bad, but again, totally oblivious. Hell, even his shrink was pining after him, but Shepard never gave any of them a second glance. The answer was obvious; he already had a girl. Probably from back before he died. How fucking tragic.

I wasn't jealous, though. At least, I didn't think I was.

I propped myself up on my elbows as he turned to leave, just a little freaked out about how hard it was to keep my eyes off that sculpted ass of his all of a sudden. "What's her name, Skipper?"

The moniker just popped into my head. I meant it as a jab at the fact that it was probably the closest I was ever going to come to calling him Commander, but at the time, I had no idea what kind of buttons I was pushing. He'd reached the first landing on the stairs by that time, and my question made him freeze in his tracks. His entire body tensed up, like somebody had just shot him in the back, and he aimed this accusing look back at me like he was trying to decide whether I was fucking with his head on purpose. I had seen countless mercs shit themselves under that glare before Shepard popped them right between the eyes, but he wasn't scaring me. It takes a lot more than a dirty look and a few glow-in-the-dark scars to scare me.

"Mind your own goddamn business." His voice was quiet, but as cold as I'd ever heard it. I raised my eyebrows at his dramatic reaction, but then just collapsed into laughter as he stomped off like some brat throwing a temper tantrum. It wasn't that I got so much joy out of making him mad. Well… I did, but it was funny for more reasons than that.

First of all, come on – pot, kettle, black?

But mostly, I laughed because I realized I was even slicker than I thought; I had learned a secret or two about our fearless leader after all.


End file.
